


I should have never gone to holiday camp.

by itslikeorange



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Getting Together, M/M, POV Alternating, Senior year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7742728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslikeorange/pseuds/itslikeorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, that was the catalyst. Maybe if I’d never gone then things would have worked out differently, and my best friend wouldn’t have seemingly lost his mind and ruined his life, all in under six months.</p><p>But I’m getting ahead of myself. </p><p>It all started with the fatass’s big mouth (doesn’t everything?)...</p><p>(Rated mature due to copious amounts of swearing, un PC language etc. you know the drill ;) )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Stan’s POV_

I should have never gone to holiday camp.

Looking back, that was the catalyst. Maybe if I’d never gone then things would have worked out differently, and my best friend wouldn’t have seemingly lost his mind and ruined his life, all in under six months.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

It all started with the fatass’s big mouth (doesn’t everything?).

‘Ey, Hippie! Where’s the Jew?’

Me, Kenny, Butters and Cartman were at the park hanging around on the benches, watching the younger kids play basketball on the court and feeling old. My wave of nostalgia quickly morphed into irritation at his whiny tone. Cartman’s voice might have gotten deeper over the years but it was still as annoying as hell.

‘He’s grounded fatass, weren’t you listening?’

‘What’s his bitch Mom say he’s done now?’

Usually I cringe when Cartman calls Kyle’s Mom a bitch, I mean, she’s his Mom ya know? But this time, I hate to say it but I kind’ve agree. Kyles been grounded this year almost as much as Butters (and that’s saying something).

‘I dunno, I texted him but I think she’s taken his phone.’ I sigh. It’s the last day of term, break starts tomorrow and we should all be up in the hills in my Dads truck, celebrating with a six pack of beer. Instead I’m sat on a park bench watching some 4th grader’s pitiful attempts to look cool and wondering if we were that dweeby at that age.

‘That sucks balls Stan. Butters was meant to be singing Fame whilst trying to fashion leg warmers out of the sleeves of Kenny’s parka by now. Tell Kyle he’s depriving my iphone, and by extension the internet, of endless hours of quality entertainment.’

‘Yeh!’ Butters pipes up.

Not quite how I’d put it, but I know what he means (is that twice now I’ve agreed with Cartman? That should have been the first indication that the world as we knew it was coming to an end).

‘Well, what do you want me to do about it?’ I huff.

‘Bust him out of course! Aren’t you meant to be super butt fuckers forever or something?’

‘Shut the fuck up Cartman!’ I snap. It’s not like I wouldn’t rather Kyle was here, but there was no way a normal dude like myself could take on the mighty behemoth that was Sheila Broflovski. ‘Are you fucking nuts? I like my balls firmly attached between my legs thank you very much.’

‘What balls? Don’t you know Stan, that hippies don’t have balls? They give them away with all their money and body wash.’

I growl at him and Butters intervenes before things can escalate. We don’t usually fight the way him and Kyle do but I’m not above punching Cartman in the face when he’s being a dick, well, more of a dick than usual.

‘Come on fellas, let’s make the most of our last night together eh? It’s a shame Kyle can’t be here but this is the last time we’re going to see you guys before you leave for 6 weeks and I for one think we should drink to that.’

‘Hear hear!’ Kenny agrees.

Butters is right. Me, Kyle and Kenny had been really lucky to be selected to go on this trip and we should be celebrating. A whole 6 weeks away from the drama and general mind fuck that is South Park and the best part is, Cartman isn’t coming with us.

Speaking of which, me and Cartman are still glaring at each other when suddenly he breaks away.

‘Whatever. If you pussies are too wet to do anything about it then I guess it’s up to me as usual.’ Cartman taunts as he turns and struts away like a douche. ‘Later, dickwads.’

I grit my teeth and start to go after him but Kenny lays a hand on my arm.

‘Leave it man yeh? We don’t need him to party.’

I agree, letting Kenny lead me away.

That was my first mistake.

 

_Spspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspsp_

 

_Cartman’s POV_

Tap tap tap.

I rap on the window as loudly as I dare. Goddam Jew started barring it sometime around 7th grade.

Speak of the devil…

‘Cartman!’ Kyle hisses at me, approaching the window with that pissed off expression that I’ve come to know so well. ‘What are you doing?’

He unlocks and opens it enough for me to heave my way in. I’m telling you, it’s not as easy when you’re 6ft 2 and built like a brick shit house but I’ve don’t this more times than I care to count over the years. I could do it blindfolded (and have on one memorable occasion) by now. I land on the bed with only a soft thump and look around.

His room hasn’t changed all that much since we were kids. Sure, the old PC has been replaced with a laptop and the surfaces are littered with books and gadgets instead of toys. But there’s a faded Terrace and Phillip poster still on the wall and Kyle’s old green ushanka hanging on the doorknob to the closet. Something about the sight makes a smile twitch at the corner of my mouth. I stamp down the feeling (as ever) and turn to Kyle who is waiting for my answer, his arms folded firmly across his chest.

‘What do you think I’m doing? I came to bust you out of this three star concentration camp. Come on, Kenny’s nicked his Dad’s stash.’

‘I can’t, my Mom will kill me.’ He shakes his head, copper curls bouncing all over the place. I really want to catch on of them in my fingers and pull.

‘Urgh.’ I flop onto his bed instead, enjoying his look of annoyance. ‘What did you do this time? The hippy said he texted you but your Mom took your phone.’

He rolls his eyes at my jab at Stan but answers. ‘Yeh she’s really mad; I got a D in one of my tests, banned me from going to camp and everything. So I guess it’s just you and me for the next 6 weeks, fatass. Joy of joys.’ He mutters like the sarcastic bitch he is.

I raise my eyebrows. Kyle A* Broflovski got a D? What did he do? Piss in the teacher’s mug?

‘Don’t you start.’ Kyle scowls, seeing my expression. ‘I don’t need the grade, I’m doing enough as it is and it’s not like I’m running for the European Union. Although maybe that’s the next step for me after becoming a lawyer. My Mom seems to have the next few years planned out as it is, I mean hey, why not the rest of my life?’

His voice could almost be described as bitter towards the end. It seems that the Jew is finally getting tired of his Hitler of a mother and my surprise almost makes me miss the most important part of his little rant.

‘Wait, you flunked a language?’ I sit up, holding my breath for his answer. He clamps his mouth shut and that’s as good as an admission.

‘Which one?’ I ask excitedly. Oh god this is too good.

‘It can’t have been English else you’d be dead already.’ I muse when he keeps stum. ‘And for Chinese you have that weird kid you send fanmail to…’

‘He’s my pen pal.’ Kyle grits out.

‘Which only leaves…’ I can barely contain my glee…

‘Don’t Cartman.’

‘German.’

He looks like he wants to murder me and it just makes this moment even sweeter.

‘Do you mean to say that I, Eric Theodore Cartman, beat you, Kyle - King of the Nerds - Broflovski, in a test?’ I clarify in the most innocent voice I can muster.

‘Fuck you, fatass!’ He shouts, then immediately quietens as we both turn our heads to the door and listen. Thankfully the only sound is the rise and fall of the TV downstairs. He turns back to me and I grin.

‘So Kyle, you were just telling me how awesome and smart I am?’

‘Ugh, I don’t know why I even told you.’

‘Because I’m the only person currently in this house who listens when you talk? Did Mommy and Daddy even ask you if you wanted to be a lawyer or is it like, decided at your bar mitzvah by spinning a dreidel between laywer, accountant or filmmaker?’

‘Yeh well least my family give a shit!’ Kyle snaps, his eyes flashing. ‘Your mom will be so proud when she’s visiting her baby through the drive thru. Maybe you can ask her ‘do you want fries with that?’ in German.’

‘Aye!’ I protest. He’s hit a nerve and by the way his eyes widen he knows it. I flop backwards, hiding my face before I give away anything to embarrass myself further, like spilling the whole damn story.

‘Yeh well, I think you need a high school diploma before they let you at the window and there’s not much chance of that. I’ll be in the back flipping the burgers.’

Too late.

The bed dips behind me as Kyle sits and I squeeze my eyes shut.

‘I don’t think they’d let you near the burgers Cartman, not after last time.’

I huff a laugh. His voice has lost his bite and taken on that softness that I hate. It makes me either want to throw my guts up or throw my arms around him. I don’t know which would be worse at this point.

‘You’re probably right Jew but I don’t think I have a choice.’ I take a deep breath. ‘German was the only subject I passed. Principal says that if I don’t make my credits up next term then he’s going to make me repeat the year.’

Kyle is quiet behind me and I resist the urge to tag on a slur… even him yelling is better than this pitying silence.

‘But, I don’t understand.’ He says finally and that wasn’t what I expected him to say at all. ‘You’re pretty smart. How did you fail?’

He sounds genuinely confused and to my horror I feel my eyes start to burn. He is the only person who’s actually asked me that rather than just assuming I’m dumb, and the horrible truth is I don’t know. Things have been different lately; Kyle always seems to be at one of his lame ass genius clubs, Stan is mostly with Wendy and I’ve been hanging around with Kenny a lot, skipping school so he can smoke weed in his basement. But Kenny doesn’t give a shit if he gets a poor ass job. I do.

I say as much and Kyle just nods, leaning back against the wall by my head.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

I blink the wetness away and turn to look at him.

‘Do about it?’

‘Yeh, I mean you’ve always got a plan so what is it? Cheating? Burning down the school? Dirt on the examiners?’ He looks at me expectantly and the realisation that he’s not joking pisses me off.

‘Where have you been for the past few years, Jew? If I so much as glance at an answer paper Principal PC would put me in hospital again. And there’s no way I can turn all my grades around in that amount of time. I… am… fucked.’ I growl. Stupid fucking Jew.

‘You could you know.’

‘What?’

‘Get your grades up.’ I go to ask him if he’s fucking deaf as well as stupid but he cuts across me. ‘No, listen. He said you only have to get your credits to graduate right? So just pick a couple of subjects you’re good at and concentrate on getting decent grades in them.’ He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

‘And what subjects pray tell, do you think I could get straight A’s in?’ I bite out. I’m expecting to shoot him down but I’m genuinely curious as to what he’s going to say.

‘German.’

I scoff, that one’s obvious.

‘Speech.’

‘Gay ass little speeches are your forte.’

He glares at me. ‘And I’ve heard enough of your big gay ass speeches to acknowledge you’re good at them. Completely deluded and terrifyingly bigoted, but good nonetheless.’

‘Go on.’ I grudgingly concede.

‘Theatre.’

I look at him, debating if he’s taking the piss.

‘You can act and you can sing.’

‘Not for entertainment.’ I point out.

‘Why not? You like performing and making a spectacle of yourself. Just do it on a stage for once.’

He has a point there…

‘That’s 320 credits, I’d need one more.’ I prod finally.

He takes a deep breath and mutters something under his breath.

‘What?’ I say, sure I’ve misheard him.

‘Religious studies!’ He all but yells, before wincing apprehensively at the door again.

‘You… want me to take religious studies…?’ I stare at him blankly, I mean this is a what-the-fuck moment right here. ‘Why?’ I ask incredulously.

He seems to be warring with himself and I don’t think he’s going to answer, until suddenly he takes another deep breath and speaks in a rush.

‘Because you’ve read the whole bible and can quote it on demand, because you made your own religion and understand how they work, because you know more about my god damn faith than I do, take your pick.’ He scowls and I feel a smile bloom on my face.

‘So to sum up,’ I begin slyly, ‘you think I’m smart, I’m good at languages, speeches,’ I tick them off finger by finger, ‘that I’m a good actor and I’m basically Jesus come again.’ I smirk.

‘You’re also the biggest dick I’ve ever met and still a fatass.’ He smiles through gritted teeth and I know I’ve got him.

‘Ok, I accept.’ I announce grandly, bouncing off the bed to stand.

‘Huh?’ He whips his head around looking perplexed.

‘I accept! When do we start?’

‘Start what?’

‘Studying. You coach me in what you just said and I’ll make sure you get an A in German so your Mom lets you see sunlight every once in a while.’

‘That’s not...’

‘But just to be clear, you’re not doing me a favour.’ I feel the need to point this out just in case the Jew gets any ideas that I owe him or anything. ‘This is a trade off. I help you, you help me.’

His face softens slightly and I get the feeling he’s seen right through me but all he does is offer out his hand to shake.

‘Ok Cartman, you’ve got a deal.’

I take his hand. It’s warm and soft and I put the tight feeling in my chest down to the excitement of a challenge accepted.

‘Deal’ I echo.

Game on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is my first stab at a fic. Read some of the awesomeness that is on here and thought I'd have a go. It's un-betaed so any mistakes are mine and I apologise profusely for the liberties I've taken with the US school system - I only know what sitcoms have taught me but it works for the story! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

_Stan’s POV_

6 weeks later.

Back to school… were their ever more hated words uttered?

The first day back in class was never a good day and it’s even worse when just yesterday you were out in the Rocky’s, breathing in fresh air and teaching kids hyped up on sugar English and how to play baseball.

Least I’ll finally get to see Kyle today. I was totally gutted when he told me that he couldn’t come to camp and for the first few weeks it felt like I was missing an arm or something. We texted but not quite as much as I wanted to, what with me having practically fuck all signal and him seemingly spending all his summer studying. I felt pretty bad about that and went round to his house as soon as I got back, but his Mom said he was at Cartman’s and when I texted him to ask him where he really was (since he obviously wasn’t really at Cartman’s) he said he that actually, he was.

I pull a face at how frankly fucked up that was and my expression doesn’t change when I trudge up to the bus stop, only to find a rather weirded out Kenny stood there… alone.

‘Where’s Kyle?’ I ask, moving up from my usual spot to stand next to him.

He shrugs at me and shakes his head, seemingly as thrown as I am. I immediately get out my phone to text Kyle, the handset pinging almost instantly with a reply saying he and Cartman had gone into school early to go to the library. I frown at the message, not sure if I’m more concerned about the fact that he’s studying more (I really thought he’d run out of hours in the day) or that Cartman has gone with him. In fact, I think an intervention is long overdue and Kenny nods soberly when I say as much to him.

I don’t see Kyle until after first period when he shouts my name coming out of his advance cal class.

‘Kyle!’ I shout back as he barrels into me. I return his hug laughing. ‘It’s good to see you dude, I missed you!’

‘Yeh right!’ He scoffs as he finally lets go of me to hug Kenny. ‘I saw your pics on Facebook. It looked amazing!’

‘Would have been more amazing if you were there dude!’ I say, grinning.

‘Yeh man,’ Kenny agrees and Kyle grins back. ‘Facebook has nothing though, the best pics are right here.’ Kenny pulls out his phone, scrolling down to one photograph and thrusting it in Kyles face. ‘Meet Dakota, you don’t get chicks of that calibre in South Park.’

‘Dakota? Improving interstate relations are we, Kenny?’ Kyle comments dryly at the half naked blonde pouting at the camera and Kenny grins like a shark.

‘Yeh, her and Kenny got together to debate matters of political importance almost every night.’ I snort.

‘You know me, I do what I must for my country, sometime we’d be at it for hours. Now that’s patriotism!’

I laugh as Kyle rolls his eyes. Kenny has just brought up a photo of another ‘political debate’ partner and of course this is just when my girlfriend comes rocking around the corner. Kenny whips the phone out of sight like the bro that he is and just in time - I take one look at her angry face and try to look suitably contrite whilst desperately wondering what I could have done since dropping her off at home last night.

‘Kyle Broflovski!’

I’m slightly ashamed to say that I’m relieved that the target of her wrath isn’t me. Wendy is scary when she’s angry. Like right now, she’s standing in front of Kyle with her hands on her hips, giving him a look that would have reduced a lesser man to stammering apologies for everything from the shoes he’s wearing to not achieving world peace. Kyle of course, is used to staring down Cartman and merely raises an eyebrow warily.

‘Hi Wendy, did you have a nice time at camp?’ Kyle had given his place to Wendy, although she seems to have forgotten that for the moment.

‘Don’t you ‘Hi Wendy’ me!’ She rages, ‘I left Red a comprehensive list of stage directions for the show while I was away, and I got back this morning to find that you had taken over and tossed them out the window! You aren’t even doing theatre!’

‘I asked the Principal over break if I could add it as a minor and he said yes, it’s something a bit different.’ Kyle shrugs as if this isn’t a big deal but I can tell by his tenseness that he’s expecting a fight. This is news to me too and I must say I’m a bit shocked he’s taking on another minor. Wendy apparently agrees.

‘Don’t you have enough to do with all your subjects?! Who do you think you are just swanning in and taking over? And you made Cartman director? What on earth were you thinking?!’

‘I didn’t make Cartman anything. Cartman made himself director, you know what he’s like. His whole life’s a drama, least he’s using his skills.’

‘So you’re absolutely fine with him changing the production? We spent weeks on Oklahoma and now you’re just changing it? I haven’t even heard of Little Horror Shop or whatever it is! And you made Bebe lead?!’

‘Little Shop of Horrors,’ Kyle corrects. ‘We watched it one weekend and it seemed like it would be fun. I mean, Cartman’s right, every school does Oklahoma.’

‘Cartman’s right?! Kyle, are you ok? Does he have something on you? Because seriously we’ll sort it out, you don’t need to worry…’

‘No, he does not have anything on me!’ Kyle replies, starting to get annoyed. ‘I agreed with him that Oklahoma wasn’t working and I agree with picking Bebe for lead.’

‘I bet you do, and I bet Cartman picked her for her ‘great singing voice’ too.’ Wendy scoffs, making bunny ears with her fingers. Kyles face reddens just as I hear Kenny’s muffled laugh, ‘Yeh right!’

‘No.’ Kyle bites out. ‘She auditioned like everyone else and was right for the part.’

‘And what’s the betting Butters is playing the lead? Can’t have his little bitch left out now can we?’ Wendy carries on, ignoring Kyle. I cringe, I hate it when girls get catty.

‘That’s enough Wendy!’ Kyle shouts, clenching his fists. ‘Butters is in the chorus _actually_ , Tweek is the male lead and before you say anything,’ he steamrollers on at her horrified expression, ‘he’s good! The production is good and everyone is happy but you. Here.’ He snaps, shoving a script at her. ‘I’m sorry you’re not the lead but Cartman didn’t think you’d want to play an airhead. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.’

‘See you later guys.’ He throws over his shoulder at us as he stalks off, leaving Wendy there gaping and clutching a script.

‘Can you believe him Stan?’ She shoots at me as soon as she’s recovered her wits. I make a sympathetic face and hope it will suffice. I really don’t want to have to take sides between my best friend and my girlfriend. I can see why Wendy’s mad. I’d be mad if Cartman took over my project, and Tweek for lead? What the fuck? But I could have told her that there’s no use arguing with Kyle when he gets like that. Years of arguing with Cartman have honed his skills so anyone not willing to go toe to toe with a tongue lashing doesn’t stand a chance. It’s not a good thing. I’ve spoken to him about it before and he does generally reign it in. He must be really passionate about this, god knows why.

‘Maybe we could go see the rehearsal and see? If it’s rubbish then you can talk to everyone. They’re going to take your advice over Cartmans.’ I try instead.

‘Tweek is lead, of course it’s going to be awful. Can you imagine?’ Wendy says, biting her lip. ‘It’s not fair on him either, he must be freaking out!’

I nod, loving her a little bit more for the concern showing on her face. She really cares about the production and the people in it. I wince inwardly, wondering what Cartman must have said (or done) to convince Tweek to do this.

‘And it’s not like we can change back now, opening night is in a few weeks!’ She continues, looking genuinely dismayed.

‘Well then you can help them improve it. It will be ok you’ll see.’ I smile. ‘I’ll talk to Kyle and he’ll understand. He’ll want to get a good grade too.’

‘Thank you Stan!’ She returns my smile, giving me a kiss on the cheek. ‘You always know just what to say to make me feel better.’ My chest swells as she waves goodbye to go to class. I savour the feeling, ignoring Kenny who I know is smirking under his hood.

‘Don’t even…’

‘Wasn’t gonna!’ Comes the muffled reply. ‘Class is that way, dude’ He adds when I’m still standing there watching her hair flick as she disappears round a corner.

‘Shut up Kenny!’

 

Spspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspsp

 

Well this is… terrible. I mean the show isn’t terrible. Kyle was right, it’s actually pretty good… and that’s what’s terrible.

Bebe is well cast for the part of the fashion conscious airhead with a heart of gold and I’m sorry to say as well that she can hold a tune.

Red, Butters and a girl from the grade below who I don’t know are sassy as fuck as the chorus.

And Tweek… who the hell would have thought he could act, let alone sing? But he’s just perfect for the nervous nerd being lured off the rails.

I’m starting to fret. Rehearsal of the first act is nearly done and any minute now Wendy is going to ask me what I think. I can’t lie to her… I can’t even say something bad about Cartman because he’s barely been in it! I mean, that’s a mind fuck right there. I would have thought he’d have been hogging the limelight from the beginning but the only time he’s been on stage so far is for one big number with Tweek and Tweek totally held his own. The chemistry between them is insane.

And where the fuck did that bass come from?! If I’d have had a drink in my mouth I would have done a spit take when Cartman started to sing.

Oh god. They’re done and Kyle is flitting about the stage giving directions and passing out scripts. At least he wasn’t a surprise, give him anything to organise and a clipboard and he’s in his element. He stops and says something to Cartman who laughs, stretching the bottom of his TV shirt up to wipe his face. He’s sweating like a pig at a luau. I’m not surprised though, that giant plant looks like it weighs a tonne and he was pulling and pushing that thing about like crazy. I suppose all that practice with creepy, insane puppets actually paid off.

Wendy turns to me and I send up a prayer for whatever is about to come out of her mouth.

‘Well fuck.’

If I’d have taken a second drink of water, I would have spit it out again. Wendy rarely swears.

‘It was good, wasn’t it?’ She sighs.

‘It was fucking kick ass dude!’ Kenny’s voice is clear as a bell, saving me from answering. He’s taken his jacket off in the hot theatre. ‘I can’t wait to see the next part!’

‘I’m going to have to apologise to Kyle aren’t I?’ She says, resigned.

I smile in relief, ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be cool.’

The guy himself joins us, Cartman unfortunately following.

‘Poor boy. Hippie. Bitch.’ Cartman nods to us each in turn.

‘Cartman.’ Wendy scowls back at him. ‘Kyle.’ She adds, softening her expression.

‘Hi Wendy. Guys.’ Kyle responds in turn, somewhat awkwardly. ‘So… what did you think?’

‘It was fan-fucking-tastic, dude.’ Kenny enthuses.

‘Thanks Ken.’ Kyle grins briefly before turning expectantly to Wendy.

‘I think I would have to agree with that statement.’ Wendy offers with a small smile. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you.’

Kyle’s face blooms into a smile. ‘Thanks Wendy.’ He replies, just as Cartman pipes up, ‘Told you the Bitch would come to her senses.’

‘I have a name.’ Wendy snaps at him.

‘Yeh, Wendy… Bitch… Testaburger. Lots of people go by their middle names Bitch, it’s perfectly understandable with a name like Wendy.’

‘Hey, knock it off Cartman!’ I jump in. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He and Wendy have always hated each other but he’s being more of a dick to her than usual and I’m not gonna sit here and let him talk to her like that.

‘Aw, should I call you Teddy then? That’s short for Theodore isn’t it?’ Wendy replies mock sweetly. ‘You know, since you’re fat and squishy like one?’

‘Come on Wendy.’

‘You’re not seriously taking his side, Kyle?’ Wendy says incredulously, turning to him.

‘No, he’s being a dick. But I thought you weren’t into bodyshaming and all that.’

‘You call him a fatass all the time!’

‘That’s different.’

‘Yeh, Kyle knows a prime piece of beef when he sees one.’

‘I do not!’ Kyle splutters.

Cartman is kinda right though, he’s not obese anymore and his height has gone someway to re-distributing his weight making him big built as opposed to round. He’s definitely not a hunk though, whatever he says.

‘Guys, Butters is going to kill himself.’ Kenny interrupts in an offhand tone, effectively halting the argument as everyone’s heads turn back to the stage where Butters is straining to lift the giant plant puppet.

‘Christ.’

‘EH BUTTERS!’ Cartman yells, making us all jump. ‘You break it, I’ll break your balls.’ He threatens whilst clambering over the seats and up onto the stage where Butters is still struggling.

‘Gee Eric, I was only trying to help. The wheel is crooked.’

‘Yeh, well don’t.’ Cartman quips, lifting the corner of the base so Butters can get his hand under.

‘Jeez, how do you put up working with him Kyle?’ Wendy shakes her head, drawing our attention back to our group.

Kyle just shrugs, ‘He’s not that bad when he’s not around certain people… like girls… or authority figures… or Jewish people… or red headed people… or Mexicans… or hippies… or any minority really… just people in general.’

‘So basically when it’s just the two of you?’ Wendy clarifies, raising an eyebrow.

Kyle’s face flames. ‘Well, no I…’

‘HEY! You just gonna stand there bitching all day like a Jewish housewife or are you gonna help?!’ Cartman’s voice bellows out across the theatre.

‘Don’t belittle my people, fatass!’ I wince as Kyle hollers back.

‘We’d better get on guys.’ Kyle says to us, thankfully at a normal decibel. ‘Wendy, there’s a rehearsal tomorrow after school if you still want to be in the production?’

‘Yeh sure.’

‘Great! This is your part, I’ve highlighted the passages for you.’ Kyle pulls a sheaf of papers from the back of his clipboard and hands them over.

‘Thanks Kyle.’ Wendy says, flipping over the pages with interest.

‘Ok, see you guys after class.’ He turns to go but hesitates at Wendy’s shout.

‘Wait! Is this a boys part? Is this Cartman’s idea of a joke?’ Wendy demands angrily.

‘What? No!’ Kyle protests, wide eyed. ‘You were saying last term about gender roles in plays and we thought it might be fun to mix it up. That’s all!’

‘You’re serious?’

‘Of course.’

‘That’s… really cool. Thanks Kyle.’ Wendy says and I beam at my best friend.

‘No problem dude.’ Kyle replies as Cartman shouts again.

‘I’M COMING! JESUS CHRIST’ He screams back, as he makes his way back over to the rehearsal.

I shake my head. Partly to get the ringing out of my ears and partly just with relief things are back to normal.

How wrong I was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that Cartman and Audrey 2 would share a special bond...  
> If you haven't watched Little Shop of Horrors, I'd really recommend it! Both the broadway show and the film are brill.


	3. Chapter 3

_Kenny's POV_

Something's changed. The others haven’t noticed yet but that’s nothing new. You’d have to post it on a billboard or perform a song and dance routine with an accompanying marching band before people in this town catch on.

The thing about me is that people dismiss me as the quiet kid, forgetting that the quiet ones see and hear EVERRRRYTHIIIIIIIING (add your own spooky voice here). I’ll have you know that a frankly wicked sense of humour and a razor sharp brain are hidden under this hood.

Like before in the theatre, everyone was so preoccupied with the drama of Wendy’s production being hijacked, they didn’t even register the minor miracle that was Kyle and Cartman putting on a show. Together.

Not that I wouldn’t expect it to be good, Cartman is a showman if nothing else, no it’s more that there is a show at all and not a crater shaped hole where the stage once was. The other guys see the shouting and the bickering and think it’s all par for the course, but there’s something off about the whole thing…

Cartman’s bitching at Wendy for a start; that was OTT even by his standards. And what the fuck is Kyle even doing _theatre_ for in the first place? The guy barely has enough time to take a leak, let alone run an entire production.

Now let’s face it, as mysteries go, this is some tame shit by South Park’s standards but if living in this town has taught me anything, it’s not to ignore the little things. Little things have a habit of blowing up like a 10 tonne Mecha-Streisand and if my friends have been taken over by evil body-snatching aliens or brainwashed by some free lovin cult then it is my duty as a friend and all round awesome dude to investigate. You probably think I’m paranoid but you’d be wrong; paranoia is the _unjustified_ suspicion and mistrust of other people or things and let me tell you, after all the shit that has gone down around here over the years I am completely justified in my suspicion and mistrust. Plus, I’ve got a 57 day streak going that I’m not in a hurry to break any time soon.

So I settle in and do what I do best… I watch. And I listen.

Next rehearsal is pretty standard. Cartman yells a bit, Stan intervenes on behalf of Wendy, Wendy retaliates with how she can stick up for herself, Kyle yells at them to get on with it, Cartman yells back and on it goes. Act two rehearsal gets under way with more of the same and by this point to be honest, I’m trying not to break my streak by dying of boredom. Stan is playing a game on his phone next to me and for the millionth time I wish I had a smart phone instead of the archaic brick currently sitting in my pocket with polyphonic ringtones and 3G internet. (On the bright side of things, I currently hold the Colorado high score at Snake.)

I’m snigger to myself for a few minutes at Cartman lip syncing along to the big love song number, complete with suitably dramatic arm gestures and eyelash fluttering. Kyle is less amused, being the target of said performance, and flips Cartman off before going back to his clipboard. I shake my head. I’d have thought Cartman would have given up doing shit like this a long time ago but the poor asshole doesn’t know when to quit it.

It’s not that I don’t think Kyle’s not interested, it’s not just Cartman that has a history with unhealthy obsessions, but Kyle is, as they say, in de-Nile. In fact, Kyle has rented a rowboat, built a pyramid and is now King of de-Nile. And long will he reign.

It’s funny that people always say how out of tune Cartman is with his emotions, but one thing about Cartman is he always knows what he _wants_ , and usually how to get it.

Once, a couple of years back. Me and him were out in his back yard just hanging, getting drunk and high (well I was high, Cartman won’t touch the stuff, says it’s for hippies) and the talk turned from the usual bullshitting to feelings and crap we wouldn’t usually confess even if there was a gun to our heads. That was the night we finally talked about my ‘Jesus problem’ as Cartman put it and the whole Cthulhu curse thing. And also the night Cartman finally admitted his not so little crush on one ginger, Jersey Jew. To be honest, I don’t know what I was more shocked at; Cartman telling me he actually missed me that time I stayed dead for a year (still the longest I’ve been away) or that he actually manned up and fucking finally said what we all already knew to be true.

Of course the next day we acted as if the night before never happened and everything went back to normal, with him and Kyle dancing around each other and me coming back after a two day absence, walking into school and no one having any recollection of me being away. Even if Cartman did shout at the top of his lungs, ‘KENNY! It’s a miracle! Oh what a wondrous day when Kenny walks back into our lives after being crushed so horribly by that 14 wheeler! Praise Jesus!’

‘Hallelujah’ I’d grinned as Kyle cried, ‘Sick dude!’ and started yelling at him for making that sort of shit up about a friend. He just shrugged and grinned back at me and after that we kept each other’s secrets.

I keep an eye out over the next few days but all is quiet on the Western front. It seems after the re-adjustment of getting the gang back together, school has settled into its usual bi-polar see-saw of droning lessons and trivial mini dramas. Cartman and Kyle still snipe and play pranks on each other sure, but the pranks are less ‘filling the swimming pool with wet concrete and pushing you in’ and more ‘dipping your hat in the liquid ice demonstration in chemistry’.

I mean, some of them are pretty funny – the glitterbomb in Cartman’s backpack (retaliation from Kyle for his hat) was brilliant, even if I did get caught in the explosion when he opened his bag in class. But hey, I’m a modern guy. I can pull off a glittery parka. And it was worth it to see the fatass covered from head to toe in pink sparkles like an overweight disco Barbie. I almost pissed myself at the shock on his face (I think Tweek may have done, it was a pretty loud bang). But there’s been nothing really on the scale of mass destruction like when we were kids.

I furrow my eyebrows under my hood. Come to think of it, Cartman and Kyle hadn’t actively tried to kill each other for a good few years now. When was the last time? The incident with the pigs and the chutney after Cartman had been watching too much Hannibal Lector? That was 4 years ago. Fuck. How time flies. And in a couple of months we’ll all moving to Denver… well, except Cartman. Not that I’m sad about that. I might be his best friend but it doesn’t mean that I don’t get tired of his bullshit.

I’m still reminiscing about the good old days after school and when Stan suggests going down to Stark’s Pond, so I’m probably a bit more enthusiastic than I usually would be to go out into the woods and freeze my ass off standing around a frozen lake.

We stop to grab some chips and swipe some beer from Stan’s house and are just making our way down the sideroad to the cut through when Cartman and Kyle start spazzing out.

‘Oh shit! Fuckin hide!’

‘What? Oh fuck!’

I look around in bemusement to see what could have them both scrambling to duck into a shop doorway. All I can see is Craig Tucker’s slouching form, loping towards us.

Cartman is ultimately closer and bigger so Kyle can’t quite get out of sight before Craig is in front of us. To my shock he actually stops to talk. This guy has said what? 100 words to us in all the time we’ve known him? That’s if you don’t count the universal sign language for fuck off.

‘Broflovski. Cartman.’ He greets, ignoring me and Stan.

‘Oh hi Tucker, what a pleasure to see you.’ Cartman pokes his head out and puts on his happily surprised voice as if hiding in doorways is the most natural thing in the world.

‘Hi Fucker… Tucker!’ Kyle corrects himself when Cartman elbows him, his face flushing as red as his hair.

I watch the exchange in baffled amusement. After giving Kyle a suspicious look, Craig seems to be searching for something to say.

‘So you guys going to the cinema on Saturday?’ He settles on eventually.

Kyle shakes his head. ‘We haven’t been invited dude.’

‘Well, we’re meeting for the 2 o’ clock showing if you guys wanna come?’

Cartman makes a strangled sound in his throat and Kyle throws him a death glare.

‘Uh, sure dude.’ Kyle nods, attempting a smile.

‘Cool.’ Craig nods and there’s a point where all three of them are nodding like demented wobble head dolls. It’s singularly the bizarrest and most awkward thing I’ve ever witnessed. And I’ve seen some pretty weird shit in my time.

‘Ok, well see you around.’ Craig says suddenly, and lopes off.

Kyle and Cartman watch him go and as soon as he rounds the corner, collapse into hysterical laughter.

‘Oh god! Fucker!’ Cartman is practically crying, clinging to the doorway.

‘It’s not funny, asshole!’ Kyle chokes, even though it obviously is since he’s biting his lip trying to stop laughing too.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you guys?’ Stan huffs. He looks pretty pissed off, although I’m not sure if it’s more because of the weirdness in front of us or getting blanked by Craig.

‘Uh, you tell it Cartman. I can’t even.’ Kyle hiccoughs.

‘Fuck that. You think I wanna relive that shit?’

‘Seriously. Kyle?’ Stan prompts.

‘Sorry dude.’ Kyle throws him an apologetic look and tries to get himself under some semblance of control. ‘So we went over to Tweek’s coffee shop a few weeks ago. We’d made some changes to the script and wanted to give it to him.’

‘As if this is important! You’re a crap storyteller.’

‘Do you want to tell it fatass? Then shut the fuck up. So yeh, we went over and Tweek's Dad said he was in the storeroom so we went in and Craig and Tweek were in there and…’ Kyle stumbles his face flaming again.

‘And Tweek was riding him like a cowboy.’ Cartman blurts out gleefully.

‘Dude!’ Kyle looks at him aghast.

‘Right there on the coffee beans.’

‘What?!’ I laugh. That is fucking. Hilarious.

‘You’re fucking with us.’ Stan says sceptically.

‘I wish I was dude.’ Kyle sighs.

‘Yeh, that pasty ass bobbing up and down will haunt me until my dying day.’

‘Jesus Christ!’ Kyle cries at Cartman as I crack up even harder.

‘So why is he even talking to you? Are you blackmailing him?’ Stan demands.

‘Oh contraire. My quick thinking is what stopped Tweek’s Daddy walking into the storeroom and getting an eyeful of his little angel twerking away.’

‘What Cartman means is, I saw Mr Tweak coming and shoved the fatass here into some boxes, at which point he yelled like a bitch.’

‘Yeh. Alerting the lovebirds that their nest was about to be discovered.’ Cartman countered with an eye roll. ‘In any case, Craig Fucker now owes us a solid.’

‘Sweet!’ I grin. If Kyle and Cartman are in with Craig, that means they’re also in with Token. And Token’s parties are legendary.

‘Please. If I hadn’t pushed you out of the way, you’d still have been standing there with your fat mouth wide open.’ Kyle can’t help but argue it seems.

‘I can’t help it if sex makes you uncomfortable, Jew. Sex is a beautiful and natural coming together of two harmonious bodies. A boner is nothing to be ashamed of, Kyle.’ Cartman simpers.

‘I did not get a boner, Cartman.’ Kyle grounds out.

‘I would’ve,’ I butt in, taking pity on him. ‘Tweek and Craig is pretty hot.’

‘It really wasn’t.’ Kyle grimaces.

‘You’re depraved Ken.’ Stan says and I smirk at him. They have no idea.

‘I forget, Twinks aren’t really your thing are they Kyle? You’re more into bears huh?’ Cartman taunts and that brings me up short.

We all know Kyle’s gay, so is Cartman for that matter. But whereas Cartman shouts his sexuality from the rooftops, Kyle, as you may imagine, has always been somewhat more reserved and we generally don’t discuss it in respect of that. In fact, I didn’t think Cartman even _knew_ for sure about Kyle.

‘Shut the fuck up Cartman!’ Kyle has gone even redder if possible as he gets up in Cartman’s face. ‘You are such are piece of shit!’

‘Aye, it’s not a big deal! Why are you getting your panties in a twist?’ Cartman shouts back, getting annoyed.

‘Because I told you that in… arghhh.’ Kyle pulls at his hat in frustration, stepping back. ‘Forget it. Just. Fuck you!’

‘You told him that?’ Stan says incredulously, looking more hurt than shocked by the revelation.

‘Don’t pull that shit on me. You haven’t even been here!’ Kyle rounds on him.

‘Hey, it’s not my fault you couldn’t come to camp dude!’

‘I know it’s not! Just. Get off my back!’ Kyle covers his face and lets out another cry of frustration.

I look at my friend and feel a twinge of worry in my gut. Kyle is a pretty hot headed guy but even he doesn’t usually get this riled up about something so trivial. And especially with Stan. I’ve noticed over the last few days that he’s been looking more worn out and frazzled, and right now his T-shirt is riding up with his arms being raised and I can see that he’s lost weight, not that he had much to lose to begin with.

We stand there awkwardly, none of us really knowing what to do.

‘I’m just. So tired, dude.’ He mumbles finally into his hands.

‘I know, dude.’ Stan says, moving forward, only to be halted by Kyles’s hands as they come up.

‘No. You fucking don’t know Stan. I…’ Kyle gives this sort’ve self-deprecating laugh. ’I’m just. I’m gonna go home, dude. I’m sorry….’

‘It’s ok.’ Stan says, looking as concerned as we all feel. ‘I’ll walk you back, yeh?’

‘Yeh.’ Kyle lets out a breath and nods.

They both walk off together, Stan giving a half wave. Kyle doesn’t even turn round.

‘What the fuck ay, Kenny?’ Cartman says to me.

 _What the fuck indeed_ , I think, frowning as I watch them disappear out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted Tweek to twerk. Twerk it Tweek!


	4. Chapter 4

_Stan’s POV_

‘That’s sick dude!’

I catch the guys at the lockers in between classes. Cartman is nearly wetting himself over something Kenny is showing Kyle on his phone. Kyle however, is somewhat less amused judging by the green tinge to his face.

‘How do the fish breathe up there?’ Butter’s wonders, peering over Kyle’s shoulder. ‘They don’t look very happy.’

‘What if they have parasites?’ Kyle says, cringing. I’m relieved to see him at school and sounding more like his usual self. He was so quiet on the walk home last night, it’s been really bothering me.

‘Hey guys.’ I interrupt before Kenny can respond.

‘Check this out dude!’ He says excitedly and thrusts the phone under my nose. I get a short glimpse of long legs before ducking away and reaching for my locker. After the last video, I know better than to watch anything Kenny gets excited about.

‘You got problems Ken.’ I shake my head good naturedly, whilst shoving my gym kit into my locker.

‘But a bitch ain’t one of em.’ Kenny quips with a grin. ‘Speaking of which, Stacey broke her leg so they’re having new cheerleading try outs on the field after school, wanna go watch?’

‘You know how Wendy feels about cheerleaders, dude.’ I sigh wistfully.

‘Aw, come on. She won’t find out. These pussys won’t come with me and if I go on my own I’ll look like a perv.’ He says, nodding to Kyle and Cartman.

‘You are a perv Kenny.’ Kyle comments dryly as Cartman looks offended.

‘Ay! Why the fuck would I want to watch a load of hippies prancing around a field and feeling up the skank’s skirts.’ He mocks. ‘I could catch something just being there.’

‘They’re fitter than you, fatass.’ Kyle counters immediately. ‘I bet _you_ can’t lift a girl above your head. The only weight you lift is a full size tub of Ben and Jerrys.’

Kyle has said the magic ‘bet’ word and Butters gives a squawk as Cartman grabs hold of him and lifts him up above his head. Kenny gives a whoop and even I’m faintly impressed.

‘Cartman! Put him down!’ Kyle shouts, flushing red.

 Butters legs flail wildly before he’s dumped unceremoniously on the floor.

‘Anything else I can prove you wrong about today, Jew?’ Cartman taunts. Kyle has leant back on the lockers and glares up at him. ‘Poor little Jew. You were wrong about Jesus and now you’re wrong about me. When will you learn?’

‘Shut the fuck up Cartman!’

‘Aw, you don’t look so good Kyle, is it knowing that you were wrong?’

I roll my eyes and turn back to my locker. This could go on for a while.

‘So we good for afterschool?’ Kenny presses.

‘Sorry dude.’ I shrug apologetically.

‘I’ll go with you Kenny. I like the acrobatics and the way they shake the pom poms.’

‘That’s my man!’ Kenny says gleefully, slinging an arm around Butters shoulders.

'Kyle!'

I turn my head just as Cartman lunges forward, catching the limp form of Kyle before he hits the floor.

‘What did you do to him Cartman?’ I shout angrily, dropping down to my knees beside them.

‘Nothing!’ Cartman protests. He’s holding Kyle half up by his shoulders, shaking him.

'Kyle?' I choke, feeling sick as I watch my best friends head wobble like a cheap wooden doll.

'I'll get a nurse.' Butters says, before disappearing.

'Kyle!' Cartman barks and Kyle jerks awake, flailing wildly for a moment before slumping back. 

'Are you ok, dude?' I ask, clutching at his hand where he’s gripping my arm.

He nods groggily and Cartman snorts.

'I'm fine.' Kyle adds, just for good measure.

'Please Jew, you can barely sit up. Did you even eat today?'

'I said I'm fine.' He protests, rousing himself enough for a glare.

'This is getting ridiculous Kyle. You’re gonna have to man up and tell that bitch to back off and stop projecting her psycho fantasies onto you. Enough is fucking enough-’

'Don't call my mom a bitch, Cartman!' Kyle sits up then sways violently backwards.

‘For fucks sake.’ Cartman snaps before digging in his pocket and coming up with a half-eaten candy bar.

‘Gross, dude.’ Kyle cringes when he tries to give it to him.

‘Jew. If you don’t eat this right now then I’m gonna shove it down your throat.’

‘And I’ll hold you down, dude.’ Kenny chimes in.

Kyle looks mutinously between the two before grudgingly talking the chocolate. He makes a face when he takes a bite but at least he’s eating it.

‘Feeling a bit better?’ I ask when he’s finished it off.

‘Yeh. Can you hand me my kit Stan? It’s in my locker.’ He answers, gesturing behind me.

I turn to his locker, punching in the combination and digging about under his jacket until I find the glucose meter. I hand it to him and he deftly sets it up and puts it to his finger. The machine beeps and I catch sight of the reading. It’s still dangerously low.

'Ok, let’s go.' Cartman says, hauling himself to his feet and dragging Kyle with him, holding him up with one arm under his shoulders.

'I'll take him.' I say, worried by the slight sheen of sweat across Kyle’s brow.

'I got him Marsh.' Cartman dismisses and I see red. Enough is enough, Kyle is my best friend and I’m going to take care of him.

'I said I'll take him.' I snap. Cartman glares at me but before he can retort Kenny steps between us.

'Not the time or place guys. I'll take him home.' He slides an arm around the opposite side of Kyle. 'Kyle would want you to stay here, Cartman.'

Yeh, damn right! I think triumphantly and for a moment I think that Cartman’s going to kick off but Kenny gives him a meaningful look.

'Whatever.' He says and stalks off to class.

I stand there for a few minutes once Kenny and Kyle have disappeared, just collecting myself; putting the glucose meter back in Kyle’s locker and picking up his bag from where it dropped to give to him later.

His backpack is on the floor by my leg in class later that day when I feel it vibrating. I reach into the side pocket and pull out Kyle’s phone. It buzzes again and I can’t help but glance at the series of texts lighting up the screen:

_U alive Jew?_

_U swooned like a 17 th century hooker._

_Kyle?_

_Txt me bak._

_Ur corset on too tight?_

_U better be sleeping, coz otherwise im gonna cum over there and kick ur ass._

_Im cumin over._

I struggle as a tangle of emotions rise up in me; guilt over invading my friends privacy like this, annoyance that Cartman can be such a dick even when caring, anger that he’s skipping class, even if it is just gym, to go over and I’m still sat here, and something else that I’m not quite ready to name, that he would even do that. Since when does Cartman even give a shit?

I decide then that I’m going over to Kyle’s straight after school to give him back his phone, he must be missing it, and I can check in on him too. And if I happen to run into that fat bastard while I’m over there, I can show him how real friends act.

The moment the bell rings after last period, I grab my stuff and walk quickly to Kyle’s house. I don’t know where this sense of urgency is coming from but by the time I get there I’m practically desperate to see him… only to have the door practically slammed in my face.

‘Sorry Stan, Kyle’s in bed resting. He might be free to do something at the weekend once he’s finished his schoolwork.’ Mrs Broflovski informs me before shooing me away.

I have to take a moment to calm down. I’ve no idea why I feel so strung out.

I whip out my phone to text Kyle, at least his Mom took his phone to give to him.

_Hey dude, how you doing?_

_Ok thanks dude. Just skipped breakfast_ J, comes the reply and I relax.

The only good thing about this is that if Sheila didn’t let me in, there is no way in hell she would let in Eric fucking Cartman!

 

Spspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspspsp

 

_Cartman’s POV_

I climb over the sill, thanking Christ that Kyle started leaving his window unlocked… speaking of Kyle.

Said Jew is blinking at me from the bed where he was obviously asleep. I’ve climbed in right on top of him and now I’m practically straddling him. It’s like a wet dream come true except in those Kyle is usually a lot less passive…

He’s still blinking groggily and I know I have around 5 seconds left to enjoy the position before he starts shouting.

‘Cartman! What the fuck?’

Huh, that was more like 7 seconds, he must have been really startled.

I slide off him and onto the carpet less gracefully than I would have liked but when he starts with that tone I know from experience to get out of arm range.

‘Who puts their bed under a window? I mean it’s like your inviting people to come and molest you in your sleep. Should have known you’d be into somophilia, you dirty Jew.’ I scoff to cover it up.

‘Is that what you were trying to do?’ Kyle asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms.

‘No!’ I protest a bit too vehemently. ‘I came to make sure you weren’t dead, you ungrateful Jewrat. You weren’t answering my texts.’

I’m fairly sure he’s debating which one of those scenarios is more likely and for a second I think he’s going for the first (which is totally not fair, I didn’t mean to grope him... this time) but to my relief he drops the eyebrow and goes for the second.

‘I left my phone in my bag. What time is it?’ He adds suddenly, looking round at his alarm clock. ‘Oh shit! I missed a whole day of school. I haven’t even got any notes…’

‘Relax Jew. I got your notes right here.’ I roll my eyes and go to pull them out of my rucksack. I hesitate at the look of relief on his face.

‘On second thought, I think I’ll keep these. You can have them back once you’ve slept.’

‘What?! No, Cartman!’ Kyle’s face creases in anger. ‘Give them back fatass! I need to read through them or I’ll be behind tomorrow. And I haven’t even started proofreading your paper.’

I get the feeling that if he had the energy he’d lunge for me but as it is, his voice just trails off as I pull my paper for speech class out of my bag and grab a sharpie off his desk, pulling the cap off with my teeth and ignoring his sound of disgust.

‘Eric, this paper is awesome.’ I articulate around the lid, scrawling with a flourish. ‘There we go. Done.’

‘It is NOT done. Your grammar is atrocious and I’m not having your grade dropping because of me and, wow, that does look worryingly like my handwriting.’ He squints at the paper.

I smirk. It should do, I’ve had years of practice.

‘You can go through it on the bus in the morning like a normal kid.’

Jew knows when he’s beat but that doesn’t mean he’s learned to be gracious about it. He lets out a cry of frustration and throws himself back on the bed.

‘I need those notes Cartman. Please.’ He adds quietly. My mouth drops open in shock, he really must be desperate if he’s using the p-word with me.

I hesitate. He looks like shit. He’s pale and sweaty and looks like he could fall back asleep at any second. I’m not a doctor but even I can tell that he’s fucked.

I shake my head. ‘You’re going to sleep Kyle. Even if I have to come over there and stick a pillow over your face until you do.’

‘That’s not sleep, that’s smothering. It worries me that I’m explaining the difference.’

I shrug. ‘Either way, you’re resting. Or I could just read you one of these fuckers.’ I say, picking up one of the massive heavy ass books from the stack on his desk. ‘Or smack you over the head with it.’ I muse. ‘You’d be out like a light in a second.’

‘Your bedside manner needs some serious work, do you know that?’

I flick the pages at him threateningly in response before reading through a couple of lines of heavy text that catch my eye.

‘Jesus, one page of this is enough to put John Simmons out.’

‘My Dad wanted me to get a head start.’ Kyle explains. ‘It’s pretty dry but there’s some interesting cases in there.’

 _The defendant denied all charges against him, invoking article 6, clause 3, and in the absence of a corpus modus operandi, the attorney was obliged to...,_ I read.

And there was me thinking that nothing could make murder boring, but there were have it ladies and gentlemen.

‘No wonder you passed out. I’d have starved myself too if I thought it would get me out of reading this snooze fest.’ I say sincerely.

The doorbell goes, saving Kyle from responding. We both fall silent, listening curiously to the muffled exchange downstairs. I feel a smug satisfaction at what I’m pretty sure is Marsh being told to fuck off. Cartman 1: Hippie: Nil.

The front door closes and I turn to resume my harassing, only for us to both freeze again. It’s lucky his Mom is so fat because otherwise we never would have heard her on the stairs.

‘Hide!’ Kyle hisses and I dive for his closet, cursing every cliché I can think of and yanking the door to just his Mom pops her head around the door.

‘Ah you’re awake, are you feeling better?’

‘Yes Mom.’ Kyle says.

‘Have you checked your blood sugar? You know you really need to keep on top of it, Kyle. You really can’t afford any time off school. I still haven’t forgotten that D you know.’ She scolds and wags a finger.

‘Yes Mom. Sorry Mom. It’s fine now.’

‘Good, bubbe. Your friend Stan just dropped this off for you.’ She says placing his phone on the bedside table. ‘Don’t be on it tonight though, get some rest and then hopefully you’ll be up to some studying tomorrow to catch up on what you missed today. Wouldn’t want you to fall behind after you’ve worked so hard.’

‘Yes Mom.’ Kyle’s voice is a monotone but Sheila doesn’t seem to notice.

‘Good boy.’ She beams. ‘We’re going out for dinner to celebrate Ike getting his grade 7 piano. The examiner said he was gifted. He’s putting him in for the American Protégé competition.’ She gushes proudly. ‘Call me if you need anything.’

‘Yes Mom.’

‘Yes Mom, yes Mom.’ I mimic in a whiny voice, emerging from the closet as soon as the door closes behind the bitch. ‘Tell me Kyle, do you actually have a vagina? Because no one can be as much of a pussy and not have one.’

‘Did you want her to stay?’ He shoots at me. ‘Once she gets on a roll that’s it, she can go for hours.’

‘Maybe I should start calling you Kylie…’

‘Did you hear what I said? Argh, I should have let her find you, then she can have a go at you for a change.’ Kyle snaps, flopping back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

His eyes are dead, the fire that usually burns in them stamped out. The sight of him so defeated makes my blood rise.

‘Why do you take it?’ I say heatedly. ‘Look at you. You’re laying there looking like Miley Cyrus after a 4 day bender and she’s going on about schoolwork!’

‘She just wants me to well.’

‘Yeh, do well or die trying.’

‘You don’t understand. Ike is already taking his scholarship exams, soon he’ll be in university and I haven’t even graduated high school. He’s a genius for fucks sake and I’m trying to keep up, really I am and I don’t want to disappoint them but I can’t…’ He takes a deep breath and puts his hands over his face.

‘You are a genius! You’re the fucking smartest kid in school and it fucking sucks that they’re too busy gushing over their freak child to see that…’ My rant trails off as his shoulders start to shake.

He’s crying.

They finally broke him. Rage sweeps over me, they aren’t allowed to break him. That’s my job. No, my _privilege_ and those fuckers have taken it away from me. Now, instead of the sweet taste of victory, all I can feel is anger and a kind of intense sadness. Kyle should never look like that. Laying in bed, hiccoughing into his hands like a kid. In the 17 years I’ve known him, I have never seem him like this. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say.

I move to sit on the edge of the bed, like he did with me so many weeks ago now. I want to touch him but I’m unsure if it would be welcome. I settle for putting a hand lightly on his leg.

It sort’ve works, he stops crying anyway. The sobs subsiding until he’s just sniffling grossly.

‘You’re sat on my feet fatass.’ He mutters eventually. There are moments when I genuinely love Kyle and this is one of them.

I huff and throw myself backwards, invoking a little smile. I’m laying half across him and I worry for a moment that I’m too heavy but he doesn’t seem to mind. It’s completely silent between us. We’re not going to talk about it and that’s fine by me. We don’t need to. Our closest interactions have never been defined by words anyway.

The steady sound of our breathing is interrupted by a sharp buzz and then the tap tap of his answering text. I raise the book still in my hand threateningly and he laughs softly, replacing the phone. It’s not long until I hear his breath even out and he drifts off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The video the boys are watching is a real video I was unfortunate enough to be shown at college. My reaction was more like Kyle's :P


End file.
